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I think I know what death feels like, the slow decay of human soul. Nothing quite describes the time that seeps through your mind while you wait for the end. There's no light at the end of any fucking tunnel, there's only silence. . .absence of emotion is true pain, and open heart that bleeds like a scourge through the masses. I haven't seen hell, I am hell, and the next day I'll dissipate. Hollow tears hold no remorse for their bearer, just a quick drop and melts for opportunity. What is the meaning of life, is it to live to one's potential, some simple pleasure that keeps emotion at bay? The body is a maze of emotions and morals are the gates at which we control the flow, or possibly don't. . .You never know what you've had until you feel it bleed, the pain shocking your soul into submission. Love is a hunt for self-sacrifice, need, and dependancy. Shallow and deep can be one in the same when layered, what's to stop one from rising above the other? Like a silent assailant it could strike and the next moment, vanish into another's eyes. Pain is fuel, it lights inner passions and leaves in a slow simmering fashion. Like poison, affection captivates your soul until you lose free will and paralyze prediction. Once blinded, you submerge and soak your surroundings in. Then you kick for air and sink deeper until taken by the hope. Once on bottom, you dig and find your home only to find that every room is another path. You ponder futilely and inebriate your chances of clear apprehension of choices set upon your table. I can't feel my soul, like rain I come and leave with complexities. One chance of inner peace is splashed in particles as I lay and crumble. Aphotic clouds curtail my reason until my voice transforms to white noise. Silently creeping through beds of gold without catching a single token, I spiral in indecision to fulfill my destiny and catch my prize for pain. . .